Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. Anna held out her hand, and he paused.
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